Friend or Foe?
by JulesDPM
Summary: A sequel to Quiller's Listening Cure and my Talking Cure


_Author's note: A while back I wrote "Talking Cure," a one shot that ended up as three-shot! Quiller then wrote a sequel for it to enter a TIWF challenge. This sequel suggested another chapter so Quiller passed the pen back to me and told me to go for it. S__o, here we are - a sequel to Quiller's "Listening Cure._

Friend or Foe?

Dr. Harold Powell took a steadying breath. He had been a practicing psychoanalyst for the best part of thirty years and he had met everyone from bored housewives who panicked at every broken nail to total psychopaths. He was pleased with the successes but rarely troubled by the disappointments.

Jeff Tracy had been a friend of his for more than those thirty years and Dr. Powell knew all about International Rescue. He was proud to be trusted with the secret and even prouder that his own son was one of International Rescue's Australian agents. Harold and Jeff had an easy relationship. When Scott had suggested that his father see him in a professional capacity Harold Powell had known that Jeff might not be one of his easiest patients and he was being proved right. Harold had had to make an exception to the general rule of not accepting a friend as a patient but figured Jeff wouldn't need more than one "talk" anyway as he was so perceptive.

He knew that Jeff didn't want to be in his friend's consulting room. He was too polite to voice this but the body language said everything. Jeff was clearly ill at ease and defensive and doing his best to control the situation.

That, Harold knew, was a waste of Jeff's time and energy but his old friend would have to come to that conclusion on his own.

"What did you think when Scott told you he had made an appointment for you today?"

Jeff chuckled. "That he was getting back to his old-self. What do you think about that Harold? Do you think Scott's all better?"

"I think he's in remission from his emotional stress, yes, but I –"

Jeff interrupted. "But how would you rate him? Well enough to go back to his International Rescue duties?"

Harold took too several seconds to reply. "Jeff, two points. One is that I can't discuss Scott's mental state with you. He has a right to privacy and I have an obligation to confidentiality. Secondly, you can stop this game playing right now. You know perfectly well what kinds of counselling there are and what kind of doctor I am There are those that conduct group therapies, those that give specific advice and those that listen and try and guide the patient to his or her own solutions. I am one of the ones that listens. I ask the questions and then you talk. That's why Bertha Pappenheim, one of Freud's patients, called it a "Talking Cure." So my next question is: How do **you **think Scott is?

Harold looked Jeff directly in the eye. Jeff did not look away. "He seems much better. He is taking decisions more easily and with greater confidence. I'm thinking of letting him head up the next rescue."

"Why?" asked Dr. Powell.

"Why? Because he's a natural leader," replied Jeff. "He assesses the situation quickly and deploys his resources effectively. His brothers accept his leadership. Everything runs like clockwork when he's in Thunderbird 1."

"So who is Scott most like in the rest of the Tracy family?" pondered Dr. Powell.

"Well…his authority is similar to John. His daring is like Alan but his sense of duty is like Gordon. That's the military influence I suppose."

"Hmm…and can you think of anyone else?"

"Well…er….oh." The penny dropped. "I suppose that Scott and I do share some similarities."

"Such as?"

Harold had begun to settle more comfortably into his seat. Jeff was finally talking and it wouldn't be long before he was relaxed enough to let his feelings out. But even as he thought that he began to see the tension creep back into his friend's eyes as he spoke.

"Scott and I are both…ambitious. We don't mind putting in the effort needed to get a good result. Some people seem to see that as a bad thing, although I'm not sure why. Look, Harold, I don't understand how this is helping anyone. I appreciate your time, you know that, but I'm a busy man. Perhaps we don't all sit around and talk about our feelings in the way you think would be good for us to do but that's because we have a lot going on. It's not just the rescues, it's the preparation of the equipment, the maintenance and cleaning them up after a rescue. And Tracy Corporation doesn't run itself. I'm still expected to make policy decisions.

"I know you're busy Jeff, but –"

"I don't have time to come here once a week for the next year to have cosy chats about my life. I need to be living it, not talking about it. I don't doubt that you'll tell me I need regular sessions but that's not going to happen so we might as well stop this now."

Dr. Powell's relaxed demeanour disappeared and he sat forward as Jeff started to reach for his jacket. With other patients he would have used such an outburst to say something like: _"It's interesting that you feel so strongly about this. Tell me more." _That would not be the best approach with Jeff. Instead he dismissed all appearances of being unfazed and reacted angrily.

"I am very disappointed with you, Jeff. I have always admired you and I feel you have let me down. "

As Harold had hoped, Jeff was stopped in his tracks. He stared, puzzled, at Harold.

"Let you down? In what way?"

"Because you have shown me no respect. I didn't think that was like you."

"But of course I respect you."

"Really, on what evidence? We have been friends for a long time. We've talked about our lives, our loves, our children, the weather and who are the top ten pitchers this century. But, never, in all that time, have I ever told you how to do your job. I couldn't run Tracy Corporation or International Rescue. I admire you for being able to do that but **I **wouldn't know where to start. With respect, you know nothing about psychotherapy and yet here you are telling me what I should be doing and how to do it. Each of my patients is an individual and I help each one in a different way. I don't just automatically sign everyone up for a year and be done with it. You are insulting me and I don't like it."

Harold sat back and waited for the reaction. Jeff could blow his top and storm out and their friendship would be destroyed for ever but he rather felt that Jeff was more likely to say….

"I'm sorry, Harold, that wasn't my intention."

Dr. Powell let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. "That's perfectly alright, Jeff. I just need you to understand that I'm not the enemy and I'm not going to make you do things that you don't or can't do. That would be a waste of my time. Just trust me."

Jeff put his jacket back down, glanced at his watch and then rearranged himself in his chair. "So, what's next?"

"I have a question," replied Harold. "You guys don't have any sort of support group. Alcoholics can go to AA meetings, women with post-natal depression have their own organisation and teachers can chat over problems on computer forums with other professionals. International Rescue is a one off, secret organisation. Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone in the same situation as you about a particular issue?"

Jeff thought for a moment. "Each other, I suppose. We don't sit down and share our feelings," he said, giving Harold a brief grin, "but we can count on each other for support".

Dr. Powell remembered that Scott had said something similar. "But the six of you are very competitive in many ways. I mean, Gordon always has to have the last word in a conversation whereas Virgil wants to be first with a technical solution and…well, I won't do a list. It's just that it must be hard for you to talk about problems with someone you're competing against on all sorts of levels. What would be more helpful is an external person who is more removed from the situation and can be objective and also give impartial advice. Who do you think that person could be?"

Jeff suddenly slumped in his chair and grief filled his eyes. Without hesitation he replied "Their mother. Their mother was the glue that held us all together. She could see problems growing and sort out a situation before it turned into a crisis. She would have talked to Scott long before I did. She had this ability to get to the heart of the matter and sort out disagreements so that no one lost face."

There was a long silence. Anguish had washed over Jeff and Harold gave him a couple of minutes' peace to begin to deal with it. Then he spoke gently. "Lucille's dead, Jeff. She's been dead for a long time."

"I know that," replied Jeff, testily.

"Do you? When exactly did you ever come to terms with her death? Aren't you more of the mind that she's gone away for a bit and will come back in due course?"

Harold saw Jeff's face grow puzzled. "Of course I'm not. What a ridiculous suggestion."

"Is it? How have you moved on? What new lovers have you had? What other people have you let be an influence on your sons' lives?"

"Well…I…" For once, Jeff seemed lost for words. "I've been busy…"

"One is never too busy to take a beautiful lady out for dinner. Here's what I want. Consider it your homework. I want you to think about a possible someone. Is there anyone you know who you could perhaps let into your personal life more than you have before? Someone, maybe, who already knows about International Rescue. Someone in whom you and the boys could confide and who would provide a listening ear. Someone who you've perhaps wanted to strike up a deeper relationship with but you haven't because of a loyalty to Lucille."

Harold saw that Jeff had stopped listening to him. Instead he was looking shocked. Harold reflected that it wasn't often that he saw a patient have an epiphany right in front of him but is was satisfying when someone made a sudden breakthrough. He waited to find out what it was.

"Penny…" whispered Jeff.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Penny!" repeated Jeff more loudly looking at Harold.

"Who's Penny?"

"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. You met her at the charity ball in Sydney," he said impatiently.

"Oh yes, the English lady in the pink dress," said Dr. Powell, remembering.

"Penny," Jeff repeated to himself and then he spoke again to Harold. "I have been pushing her away but….you know the boys adore her. She invited me on holiday but I…."

"Told her you were too busy?"

Jeff chuckled. "I tried to. She can be quite insistent. She's so different to Lucille but similar in many ways also."

"Could she be a start? Could you maybe let her into your life a bit more?" But Harold saw he had lost Jeff again to his thoughts. Jeff stood up and distractedly grabbed for his jacket.

"I must go…" he muttered vaguely.

"Okay, Jeff. Well, give what I've said some thought and maybe we'll meet up here again."

He held out his hand and Jeff shook it and then surprised him even more by saying something Harold had not imagined he would hear that hour.

"Thank you," said Jeff.


End file.
